


This Plan Of Yours

by screamingsongbird16



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 11:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingsongbird16/pseuds/screamingsongbird16
Summary: When you wake up tied to a chair, head aching, and in a drug induced haze, there’s only one thing a D-Agency spy can do: wreak havoc on whoever did this to you. (Originally published in the Joker Game fanzine: Double Agent)





	This Plan Of Yours

 

Notes: This fic was originally published in the Joker Game fanzine Double Agent, which can be downloaded for free here: <http://i-dedicate-this-kill-to-the-fans.tumblr.com/post/154896619359/double-agent-a-joker-game-fanzine>.  So some of you have read this already.  If you haven’t yet, then please enjoy it.  And check out all the other great content in the free fanzine.  There are more fics (one other by me, not yet published on AO3), fan art, a puzzle game, and lots more fun stuff, like articles about espionage, and the recipe for the Asia train’s signature cocktail, which Tazaki was drinking in his episode.

 

Also, another Joker Game fanzine, Double Agent 2 is in the works, and is now open for sign ups!  So if you’d like to see your art, or fic in the next fanzine, or have an idea for something else that would be awesome in there, check out this link: <http://i-dedicate-this-kill-to-the-fans.tumblr.com/post/167112059534/double-agent-2-a-joker-game-fanzine>.  Sign ups end December 20th, so don’t delay!

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

            Hatano awoke without moving a muscle.  Even before he was completely conscious, he could feel an overwhelming sense of wrongness.  That feeling only intensified as his wits returned and he realized his situation.  He’d been sleeping in a chair.  An uncomfortable chair.  With his hands bound behind him.  Not exactly one of his first five choices of sleeping positions.

            And he wasn’t at their training facility anymore.  The ramshackle warehouse that had been converted into a temporary spy school was near the docks.  It smelled faintly of salt, all the time, no matter where you were in the school.  Hatano couldn’t smell salt now, and the air felt drier.  And instead of the creaking of wood and the sound of the wind off the sea, there was only silence. 

            Hatano’s mouth was dry.  And his head hurt.  Two signs that he’d probably been drugged.  Great.

            How did I get into this mess? Hatano wondered.  He tried to remember, well aware that whatever he’d been drugged with might have erased the past day or more for him.  But the last thing he could remember . . . he’d been given an assignment.  Lt. Colonel Yuuki had given him a task.  Even though he was still technically a trainee.  But only for another few weeks.  Graduation was near.  Assuming Hatano survived to reach it.  He’d been happy when Yuuki gave him his task.  It meant the old man had confidence he would pass next month’s final exam. 

            A surge of shame hit Hatano right in the chest, as he realized Yuuki-san’s faith in him had been misplaced.  Somehow he’d gotten himself captured.  Had he ended up ruining everything?

            Wait.  No.  As more memories resurfaced, Hatano remembered that he’d completed his assignment.  It had been easy.  All he’d had to do was go to a park and sit on a bench, reading a copy of Shakespeare’s _Julius Caesar_ , until someone wearing a black shirt and a teal tie sat down on the bench in front of his.  Then he’d lit up a cigarette and smoked out a message in Morse code.  He hadn’t even known what the message was . . . or at least he hadn’t when Yuuki handed him the paper containing the message and ordered him to memorize it.  It just looked like a bunch of random letters from the English alphabet, strung together.  But on his way to the exchange point, Hatano had accidentally cracked it.  It had been hard not to.  Especially when he was carrying a clue as his identifying prop.  Just a simple Caesar cipher.  Rotated an unlucky number of letters.

            His contact had surprised him, a bit.  Because the person who showed up wearing a black shirt and teal tie was also wearing a white skirt.  And had her hair cut in a cute little bob.  But she fit the bill, so Hatano had smoked out the message in Morse code.  Short puffs of smoke for dots, longer exhales for dashes.  The woman hadn’t written it down.  Hatano approved.  Even though he didn’t really have to worry about her ability to safely transport sensitive material right then.  She had two very large bodyguards with her, who looked like they could break bones with their bare hands. 

            In hindsight, Hatano realized that should have tipped him off as trouble.  Had his contact believed she was in danger?  And if she was, he should have realized that whoever was watching her would be wary of trying anything with her when she had those two mountains of muscle tailing her.  But he, on the other hand, was a much more appealing target.  Most likely someone tailing the woman had seen their exchange and decided it would be easiest to get the information they were after directly from the source.  Or at least the messenger.  Hatano mentally grimaced.  And wished he’d been carrying a copy of _Antony and Cleopatra_ instead of Julius Caesar.  Maybe the Bard’s words could influence whoever had kidnapped him.  If he remembered right, which he did, there was definitely a line in that play about not killing the messenger.

            Not that Hatano planned to depend on mercy from his kidnapper, or the words of a long-dead playwright swaying them.  Screw that.  He was getting out of here on his own.  The chair that he was tied to was made of wood.  His captor could not have made a bigger mistake.  Hatano had been breaking wood with his bare hands and feet since he was five.  Even tied up in an awkward position, he was more than capable of turning a flimsy wooden chair like this into scrap lumber.

            That would redeem him to Yuuki-san, right?  The spymaster told them to expect things to go wrong on their missions.  He’d stressed that things outside of their control would happen.  What mattered the most was gaining control of the situation.  Or at least enough control to stay alive. 

            There were other things to consider.  Like making sure he didn’t lead his kidnapper straight to Yuuki and the other trainees.  Hatano was almost positive that he’d been taken on his way back from his mission.  He couldn’t remember ever making it back to the temporary training facility.  The last thing he remembered was leaving the park.  Unless he remembered more, he’d assume he never made it back, and that he had to make doubly sure he had no tail this time.  Or else hide out somewhere away from the school and send Yuuki-san a message, letting him know what happened.  Well, he’d blow up that bridge when he came to it.  Right now his priority was escaping.

            He slitted his eyes open, satisfied he was alone, after all this time of not hearing anyone.  He had just enough time to take in stark walls, old laminate floors, and a wooden door when said door screaked and started to open.  He quickly closed his eyes and went limp again, feigning unconsciousness.

            “This one’s still asleep.  That’s a little worrisome.  Wasn’t he the first one we got?”

            “Hey, this isn’t my fault.  We used the reduced dosage for him like the client said.  If he miscalculated that’s on him.”

            Two kidnappers.  Nothing Hatano couldn’t deal with.  But they just revealed they had more than one captive . . .

            “The other kid got the same reduced dose, two hours later, and he’s already come around.  You sure you used the right dart on this one?”

            “Yeah, I used one of the blue ones –”

            “You were supposed to use red on him!”

            “Oh.  Well, that’ll do it.”

            “Don’t make light of this!  You gave him the same dosage we gave to men nearly twice his size!  If we damaged him, we’re in trouble!”

            “Maybe the client won’t notice.”

            “Are you really dumb enough to believe that?”

            Hatano mentally sorted the information as it came in.  It sounded like they had more than two captives from their conversation.  And they’d been planning these abductions.  But most worrisome to him was the reference to another kid.  So far, he didn’t have any intel that should make him believe their other captives were from the fledgling D-Agency, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut.  If these bastards had Jitsui . . .

            Cold fingertips suddenly pressed against his throat, taking his pulse.  Hatano only barely managed not to move a muscle at the unexpected contact.  His every instinct was telling him to lash out.  Before his D-Agency training, he would have at least flinched.  But now he managed to fake being unconscious perfectly, down to the last detail.

            “His pulse is still really slow.  We’ve got at least another hour for him.”

            “Should we help interrogate the other kid?”

            “I really don’t want to.”

            “Chicken.”

            “Did you see what he did to Kimuro?”

            “No.  What did he do?”

            “He bit a chunk out of Kimuro’s face!  The kid may look like an angel, but he’s definitely a disciple of a Demon King!”

            Hatano’s blood ran cold at the mention of Yuuki-san’s nickname.  And the comparison of the other captive kid to an angel.  _They had Jitsui._

            “There is a simple solution to not ending up like Kimuro.  Don’t get within biting distance.  The brat’s tied up.  How hard can that be?”

            The voices were retreating.  Hatano cracked his eyes open again.  Their backs were to him.  Completely vulnerable.  And these idiots hadn’t even bothered tying up his feet.  They’d just wrapped rope around his chest and arms, binding him to the back of the chair.  That was a mistake.

            Hatano stood up.  It was awkward, with a chair tied to him, but his leg muscles were more than strong enough to compensate for the chair’s weight, and his odd posture.  Before the men reached the door, he charged.  Then twisted, right before he collided with them.  The chair slammed into the man furthest from him and splintered apart.  He went down hard.  Hatano went down too, on top of the other man.  He head-butted him in the face on the way down and felt the man’s nose break, right before he landed on top of him.

            The first man was out cold.  The second one, under Hatano, was wheezing, blood streaming from his nose.  Hatano’s arms were still tangled up in a mess of ropes and wooden slats.  But nevermind.  He didn’t need his arms to deal with this one.  He rolled over one shoulder, off the man, past his head.  Then Hatano used his legs to get the man into a chokehold, squeezing his neck between his thighs.  The man thrashed, but he was no match for Hatano.  He passed out in less than twenty seconds.

            Hatano disentangled himself from his bindings as quickly as he could.  There was no time to waste.  Because there was at least one more kidnapper.  Kimuro.  He needed to deal with that bastard ASAP.  But he had to finish dealing with these two bastards first.  Hatano hogtied them with the ropes they’d used on him, then shoved them in the room’s closet, locked it, and jammed the lock with splinters.  It took a little longer than it should have.  The drugs in Hatano’s system made him a little dizzy, and things swam in and out of focus.  But they weren’t enough to stop him.  And taking care of those bastards had to be done.  Though he’d been tempted to just break their necks.  That would have been faster . . . but no.  It was against Yuuki-san’s cardinal rule.

            He did search them before locking them up.  But he didn’t find anything useful on them.  No IDs, knives, or guns.  Some spare change that he took out of spite.  But nothing he could use as a weapon.  So Hatano settled for two of the broken chair legs.  He knew how to fight with double sticks.  If he accidentally fractured anyone’s skull . . . well, they had it coming.

            Hatano left the room after peeking out into the hall cautiously.  He was able to quickly determine that they were in an abandoned office building.  He paused at each door he passed and listened carefully for anyone inside, before easing each one open, just to check and make sure.  He passed six empty rooms before he finally heard voices from within.

            “Tell me, if you want to live, you little brat.  There’s only one way you walk out of this alive.”

            There was a pause.  Presumably to wait for a response.

            “I have no qualms about making you talk.  You won’t be nearly so cute if I carve your face up.  Think this over.  You could have a long life ahead of you.  Or you could die tonight with your face carved off.”

            “If I die tonight, then my looks won’t matter much, will they?” returned Jitsui his voice bitterly practical.

            “No.  But it will hurt like hell if I flay your face.  I’d like to do that anyway, after what you did to my buddy.  But I’m giving you a chance to save both yourself and your looks.  I’m trying to be a nice guy.”

            Hatano couldn’t count on being able to do this by stealth.  Too many doors he’d opened on his way here had squeaked.  This would have to be a blitz attack.  He needed to reach the man and take him down before the man could use Jitsui against him, as a hostage.  And if there was someone else in the room who hadn’t spoken yet . . . Hatano would just have to improvise.

            Jitsui didn’t respond to the “nice guy’s” claim.  So Hatano waited until Mr. Nice Guy started talking again.

            “You’re too young to be –”

            Hatano burst into the room.  Mr. Nice Guy was standing in front of Jitsui, stroking Jitsui’s cheek with the flat of a knife, and only just started twisting around to see who was there when Hatano hit him with a spinning jump kick.  His momentum from running kept carrying him forward, increasing the strength of his attack.  So his kick alone knocked the wind out of Mr. Nice Guy when it hit him in the chest.  Landing on his back, with Hatano on top of him just compounded it.  Then his head cracked against the floor and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  He was out cold, Hatano saw, and grimaced.  He’d wanted to leave him conscious to question him.  Oh well.

            “Hatano?” asked Jitsui.  His eyes were very wide, when Hatano met them.  Wide and glassy.  But Hatano had the feeling that wasn’t all from whatever drugs they’d given him.  Jitsui’s voice was shaky with relief.

            “Hey,” said Hatano, standing up.  He wobbled slightly, a little dizzy from that rush of action.

            “Are you alright?” asked Jitsui, seeing that immediately.

            “Asks the guy tied to a chair,” returned Hatano, as he picked up the knife that had fallen to the floor.  With it, he was able to make short work of Jitsui’s bindings.  Jitsui stood up quickly and grabbed Hatano by both shoulders.  “Hey?  Jitsui?  You alright?” asked Hatano, alarmed.

            “Yes.  Yes.”  Jitsui took a deep breath, then let it out, before letting go of Hatano.  His expression wavered slightly before settling into an expression as blank as a porcelain doll’s.

            He was scared, Hatano realized.  His friend had sounded so solemn and calm, talking to Mr. Nice Guy.  But what that dick said had gotten to Jitsui.  Now Jitsui was a little weak kneed with relief.  Hatano wished he could give Jitsui a minute to recover.  But they didn’t have a minute.

            “I think they’ve got some of the others,” said Hatano, shutting the room’s door as soon as Jitsui let go of him.  “They’ve been planning this.  I heard two guys who were checking on me talking.  They got us with darts.  And they were specifically prepared for you and me, with reduced dosage darts.  Do you remember where they got you?”

            “No,” said Jitsui.  “I don’t . . . remember.”

            “What’s the last thing you do remember?” asked Hatano.

            “I . . . I was with Fukumoto.  We were shopping for dinner.”  Jitsui put a hand to his temple trying to will his memories back.  “We split up to get different ingredients.  That’s all I remember.”

            “How many kidnappers have you seen or heard?” Hatano asked.

            “Just one other.  He was in my face when I woke up, so I bit him.”

            “Good,” said Hatano, smirking.  But then he frowned.  “They’re targeting us specifically.  It’s not just some sick slave ring going after people with pretty faces.  I heard them mention Yuuki-san.  They said it was obvious you were his disciple.”

            “They asked me about him.”

            “Do you know if they have Fukumoto too?  Or any of the others?”

            Jitsui shook his head.

            “I think we better check around before we escape.  You want the sticks or the knife?”

            “Knife,” Jitsui said immediately, eyes gleaming. 

 

* * *

 

 

            It was only a matter of time before someone realized they were down a couple men and prisoners, so Hatano and Jitsui decided to travel through the building’s air vents, rather than through the halls until they found one of the others who was too big to fit in the vents.  It turned out to be a good decision.  Within minutes they’d found Kaminaga.  Who was in the middle of being interrogated.  And seemed to be on the verge of cracking when they found him.

            “Alright!  Alright, I’ll tell you where to find him!” Kaminaga pleaded.  “I’ll tell you how to find my boss!  Please, just put the knife away!”

            Hatano and Jitsui exchanged dark looks as they reached the vent where his voice was coming from.  Hatano immediately reached his fingers through the grate to reach the latch.  But Jitsui grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

            “Alright, scum.  Talk,” said the sole man in the room with Kaminaga.

            Hatano made a sharp, questioning motion with his free hand at Jitsui, but saw that Jitsui wasn’t watching him, but rather Kaminaga, his expression stormy at the prospect of betrayal.

            “I can’t . . . I can’t give you his exact location right now.  But I can tell you where to find someone who can,” said Kaminaga, stuttering as though this was difficult for him.  Acting.  Not betraying them, but lying to his captors.

            Jitsui took his fingers off Hatano’s wrist.  Hatano reached for the latch again.

            “Well then talk.”

            “I . . . er . . . ah –”

            “I said talk!”

            “Alright!  Alright!” said Kaminaga.  Then he cringed.  “Do you . . . know . . . the muffin man?”

            Hatano’s fingers almost slipped off the latch.  He heard Jitsui trying to smother a snicker.

            “The muffin man?” asked the interrogator.

            “The muffin man,” Kaminaga repeated miserably.

            “What muffin man?” demanded the interrogator angrily.  Clearly not getting the song reference.  Hatano used his shout as cover for opening the vent, then quickly dropped down through the small opening, swinging to get momentum for his kick.

            “He lives on Drury Lane, bitch!” Hatano called to him, right before he let go.  The interrogator twisted around in surprise at the last second, and Hatano’s foot impacted against his temple.  Knocking him out cold.  “Dammit.  I keep meaning to leave someone conscious so we can interrogate them.”

            “Hatano,” said Kaminaga, looking a little dazed by his sudden appearance, but happy nonetheless.  “Excellent timing.”

            “I try,” said Hatano, frowning at Kaminaga’s bindings.  Unlike him and Jitsui, Kaminaga was bound with cuffs.  And a quick search of his interrogator yielded no key.  He sighed.  “Jitsui.  Can you scout ahead and see if you can find any of the others?  I need to pick these locks.”

            “Alright,” Jitsui agreed.  “But be careful.  Yell if you need help.”

            “Will do.”  Then Hatano set to work, cobbling together some lock picks as he filled Kaminaga in on their situation.  He ended up taking apart a pen that had been in the interrogator’s pocket, and breaking the frames of his glasses.  In the end, his tools were crude and unwieldy, and hardly worthy of being called lock picks, but they did the job.

            “Thanks,” said Kaminaga, several minutes later, when Hatano was done.  He rubbed at his wrists and glared at his former captor.  “Let’s cuff him to that chair.  Upside down.”

            “Alright.”

            But before they could carry out their vengeance, the room’s door swung open.  Hatano attacked the two men who stormed in on instinct, tossing one chair leg to Kaminaga then charging forward.  He barely managed to stop himself from braining Tazaki.  And Miyoshi only just managed to twist away from Kaminaga’s attack.

            “Oh.  Hi you guys,” said Hatano casually.

            “Hi yourself,” said Tazaki.

            “Watch what you’re aiming at,” Miyoshi snapped at Kaminaga. 

            “Did Jitsui free the two of you, or did you free yourselves?” Kaminaga asked.

            “Tazaki slipped his cuffs and freed himself, then found me,” said Miyoshi.  “We heard your voice through the door and thought you needed help.”

            “The kids got here first,” said Kaminaga.  “They’ve been crawling through the vents.”

            “I take it Jitsui is scouting ahead,” Miyoshi deduced.  “Have you any information on our abductors?  How many there are, or what they want?”

            “I’ve knocked out four, counting that one,” said Hatano, toeing at the unconscious kidnapper.  “There’s at least one more who’s probably got a bandage on his cheek now, because Jitsui bit him.  They came after us prepared, with tranq darts.  And they want to know about Yuuki-san and possibly D-Agency.”

            “Did any of the ones you took down have guns?”

            “No.  Yours?”

            Miyoshi shook his head.

            “Would you like a broken chair leg?” Hatano offered.  “Or a knife?”

            “I want the knife,” Kaminaga whined.  Miyoshi and Tazaki ended up with the broken chair legs.  Hatano was left empty handed, which he was fine with.  His whole body was a weapon.  He didn’t need another. 

            They waited for Jitsui to return.  Minutes passed.  Long enough for Hatano to start getting worried.  But right when he was on the verge of demanding Kaminaga give him a boost back up to the vent, there was a soft knock on the door.  Then it opened slowly, revealing Odagiri.

            “Jitsui released me, Fukumoto, and Amari.  And we have a conscious prisoner.  Jitsui’s interrogating him now.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

            The man Jitsui had taken captive was the same one whose face he’d taken a bite out of when he woke up.  Which was a fortunate coincidence.  Because he was scared out of his mind of Jitsui.  It was not inaccurate to say he was a blubbering mess by the time Hatano’s group made it to the room where they were holding him.

            “Oh good, you found Miyoshi and Tazaki,” said Jitsui, smiling sweetly as they entered.

            “They found us, but whatever.  What did you learn from this scum, Jitsui?” Hatano asked.

            Jitsui’s captive was named Kimuro if memory served Hatano correctly.  Jitsui turned to him and pinched his cheek.  The cheek he’d bitten a chunk out of.  Kimuro whined and wept.

            “Hey.  Why don’t you tell my friends what you just told me?  Pretty please?”

            “It wasn’t our idea!  To kidnap you!  And we were never going to hurt you!  We had orders to do no lasting damage to you!  It’s why we tranqed you all instead of knocking you out other ways!” Kimuro cried.  “Please.  Please don’t hurt me.  I swear, you were never in real danger!”

            “I’m impressed, Jitsui,” mused Miyoshi, putting a hand to his chin as he contemplated Kimuro’s pathetic state.  “How did you manage to break him so quickly?”

            “I just told him about the other people whose faces I’ve eaten,” said Jitsui. 

            “Right.  And as much fun as it is watching a grown man cry, I think we should speed this up,” said Amari.  “The short of it is, the guys who grabbed us aren’t real mercenaries or hired muscle.  They’re from a private security company that went under because too many of their employees were drafted.  This is their first time doing something like this.  They were contracted to kidnap us and get information from us about Yuuki-san and D-Agency.”

            “Who contracted you?” asked Miyoshi. 

            “Want to answer my friend, mister?” asked Jitsui, pinching Kimuro’s cheek harder.

            “I don’t know!  I’m not the leader!  We only know him as the client!” wailed Kimuro.

            “And where can we find this client?” asked Miyoshi.

            “Upstairs!”

            Miyoshi grabbed the man’s tie, pulling on it tight.  It made for an interesting image, since Jitsui was still pinching his cheek.  “He’s here?”

            “Yes!  On the third floor!  In the big office at the end of the hall!”

            Miyoshi released Kimuro.  Jitsui didn’t.

            “Gentlemen,” said Miyoshi.  “I think it’s time we paid our respects to our host.  Do you agree?”

 

* * *

 

 

            A plan was made.  One that had Hatano and Jitsui climbing through the vents again.  Not that they minded.  Sometimes being small was annoying.  Other times, it was useful.  Right now it was useful for their group. 

            Hatano checked his watch as he made it up the vertical shaft to the third floor.  He’d synced his watch up with Miyoshi’s, so the others knew exactly when Hatano would make his move.  They had three minutes left.  Plenty of time.  He glanced back at the vent shaft, then reached out as Jitsui came into view, catching his friend’s hand and pulling him up over the ledge.  Jitsui smiled his thanks.  Hatano nodded back, then started crawling again, his expression turning grim.  He hadn’t forgotten how those bastards had scared Jitsui.  The client had a lot to answer for.

            They found the vent leading into the right office with a minute and a half to spare.  Two men were in the room below.  With the room dim lighting, and viewing them from above, there wasn’t much that could be told about them.  Just that there were two of them.  There was only one vent into the room.  As per their plan, Hatano, the most agile of the trainees, would be entering first, and drawing the client’s and other guy’s attention toward him.  Then Miyoshi and the others would enter and attack while their backs were turned, and Jitsui would keep an eye on the situation from above.  He had two knives to throw if anyone looked to be in dire straits.  Hatano’s biggest job was to cause the distraction and not get shot, though if he had the chance to take someone down, he certainly would. 

            Hatano and Jitsui watched through the grates, and waited, for a full minute.  Neither of the men below spoke or moved.  The silence between them seemed somewhat stiff.  When it dropped down to half a minute until go time, Hatano reached for the latch, but Jitsui grabbed it first.  His friend gave him a quick nod, then held onto the latch as they counted down the seconds.  Three . . . two . . . one!

            Jitsui opened the vent and Hatano dropped out of it, landing quietly, and unseen, and for a moment he was tempted to attack one of the men, whose backs were both to him, before shouting and signaling Miyoshi’s group.  But no.  That was not the plan.  And Yuuki-san had stressed to them the importance of sticking with the plan.  So Hatano proceeded with the distraction.

            “Up yours!” he shouted, startling both men into twisting around to face him.  “I’m gonna screw _up_ this plan of _yours!_  What?  Yuuki-san?  Sakuma-san?”

            Right then, the office door slammed open and the others rushed in, ready for a fight.  But when they realized what Hatano realized, they froze, stunned.  Jitsui dropped down from the vent to join in their confusion.

            “You’re the client?” asked Hatano.

            “This was just a test?” asked Miyoshi.

            “Yes,” said Lt. Colonel Yuuki nonchalantly, looking at each trainee in turn.  “This was your final test.  And you just passed.”  He allowed the newly graduated spies to gape at him for a moment, before offering them a salute.  “Congratulations.”

            None of the spies responded to the salute.  They wouldn’t have even if they hadn’t been so dumbfounded.  They knew better.  Sakuma, on the other hand . . . he saw his superior saluting someone and immediately mimicked him, saluting the spies as well.  Confusion washed over his face as that act broke the tension for the spies, and they started shaking their heads or chuckling.

            “That was a trap,” Miyoshi informed Sakuma.

            Hatano smirked.  “Now you have to pay the fee for acting too military.”

            “That’s right,” Yuuki said sternly.  “Pay up.”

 

* * *

 

 

            “Lt. Colonel Yuuki?” Sakuma asked later that night, in the building whose sign proclaimed it to be the Greater East Asia Culture Society.  The building that was, in reality, the newly functioning D-Agency.  The spies would be moving in within the hour.  They’d returned to the temporary school for the last time to gather their belongings while Yuuki cleaned up from their exam.  The hired help had been tranquilized with the same sedatives he’d had them use on his students.  With a little something extra, to ensure their memories of the night were purged.

            “What?” asked Yuuki curtly.  He was in a good mood.  But the military’s liaison always had a way of ruining those.

            “Are you going to tell them?” Sakuma asked.

            “No.  And neither will you.”

            “You don’t think they should know?  That for their real final exam you intended to make them believe they were really going to die if they didn’t give you and the school up?”

            “They don’t need to know.  Telling them the truth would serve no purpose now.”  Worse, it would turn them all into smug bastards as they silently gloated over one upping their teacher.  Or not so silently gloated, in the case of at least one cheeky little imp.  Hatano had summed it up well, earlier that night when he proclaimed, “I’m gonna screw up this plan of yours!”  Yuuki didn’t care to know what else he might say on the subject if he realized just how much he really had screwed up Yuuki’s plans.

            Even so . . . Yuuki found he wasn’t annoyed by the outcome of the night’s events.  The boys weren’t intended to escape, no . . . but he would be lying if he denied being impressed.  Not one but two of them broke free from their bonds, then freed all the others and converged on the office where Yuuki had been waiting for the hired help to soften them up, and make them believe they were in a real life or death situation.  Their reactions had proven their loyalty.  Seeking out each other rather than escaping on their own.  Dealing with the threat to them all, like it was the natural thing to do.  They’d worked together in a way that a large group of spies could never really be expected to.  Even though a group like this was what Yuuki had been hoping to assemble, he’d known it was a long shot.  It was the kind of thing he couldn’t have planned on succeeding.  But sometimes, he mused, plans were overrated. 

 


End file.
